Four and a Half Doctors
by The Sainted Physician
Summary: A flawed angel, a genius, a warrior, a demon, a madman. Five incarnations. Five versions of the same man. All trapped, in a universe that shouldn't exist.    A novella featuring 11, 10, 10.5, 8, 5, and Amy, River, Rose, Romana, Turlough, Ianto! Het/Slash
1. Ch 1: And Everything Began to Go Wrong

Four and a Half Doctors: A flawed angel, a genius, a warrior, a demon, a madman. Five incarnations. Five versions of the same man. All trapped, in a universe that shouldn't exist.

This novella is already written! I will be posting a chapter every couple days as I edit them. If you like it, please review! Spoilers for pretty much everything Doctor Who ever up to the end of Series Five.

I don't own Doctor Who or Torchwood, but I worship those who do!

* * *

Chapter 1: And Everything Began to Go Wrong

"Oh, I don't know, Pond. I think the place has its charms," the Doctor said adjusting his bow tie.

"But what's the point of visiting Space Florida if you've already refused to go anywhere near the water?" Amy asked, giving him a little pout. "And I still think you're keeping something from me, Doctor. You're being far too nice. We haven't been attacked by any terrible creatures in weeks!"

She said it in jest, her tone light and teasing, but as had become more often lately, the Doctor seemed to freeze for a moment, his expression darkening before he regained his composure and forced a smile. And Amy thought once again about the ring in her pocket. He hadn't mentioned it had gone missing yet, and if anything, that worried her even more. But she could play cheerful with the best of them, and if that was what the Doctor needed at the moment, she would oblige.

"Amy," he said softly, and placed a hand on her shoulder, suddenly serious, his eyes searching her face for something she couldn't quite place.

But then the phone rang, and the moment was broken. He seemed relieved to have a reason to cross the console room away from her, but Amy trailed after him, nosy as ever.

"Hello!" he said in a bright, chipper tone.

"Hello, Sweetie," Amy heard distantly, from the phone.

A wide, genuine smile sneaked across his face. "Ah, if it isn't the indomitable River Song! ... I see... Right this minute? Well, no, I wasn't particularly busy at the moment, but- Ok, Ok, hold tight."

The same grin on his face, he started running around the center column, pulling levers and pressing buttons and generally acting a bit mad. But excited. Amy couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy. Not at River, but at what he and River had. She couldn't remember ever feeling that way before.

Couldn't quite remember...

"I'm afraid we're going to have to make a little detour before exploring the lovely beaches of Space Florida," the Doctor said, distracted. "It seems River has gotten herself into a bit of trouble. Again."

But unlike last time, he didn't seem at all displeased. In just a few minutes, they'd landed on a rather inhospitable planet.

"Not exactly sure what she's doing here," the Doctor muttered to himself, glancing at his watch as he opened the door. "We're several thousand years from the evolution of the human species."

A dark blur dashed past him into the TARDIS, slamming the door behind her. River Song, dressed in a snug black jumpsuit with a silver belt and holster, stood inches from the Doctor, her back pressed against the door, panting slightly. "Right. Doctor, I think we need to get out of here. Now."

He chuckled. "Right."

And then they were both at the console, chatting and laughing as they piloted the TARDIS into the vortex. Enjoying themselves immensely.

"So what sort of daring adventures were you up to this time?" Amy asked, watching them as she perched from the jump seat.

"Oh, nothing worth mentioning really," she said casually, but her eyes were watching the Doctor. "Except my vortex manipulator suddenly decided to malfunction, and well, let's just say the natives grew restless."

"And where, exactly, did you say you obtained that particular little piece of rubbish time travel technology?" the Doctor asked, his voice light, but he seemed to stare straight through River.

"Ah, but that would be telling, my love. And I know how you hate spoilers."

He sighed, but kept smiling, obviously charmed.

Then the lights flickered, and the universe began to swirl around them.

"What's happening, Doctor?" Amy cried out, struggling to make sense of things as reality seemed to warp right in front of her.

"We're being pulled in!" River shouted. "I can't compensate, the time differential's too great!"

"Just hang on, we're almost through," the Doctor called back, his voice strained.

And then things really turned strange.

* * *

The Doctor stood in front of the center column, arms crossed. Staring at nothing, really. Alone.

Living on borrowed time.

It had seemed a simple decision at the time, defiant and proud. Ignoring the Ood that called him to his death. But what had he done with his borrowed time? Drifted around an empty galaxy, exploring worlds that had never known sentient life, naming it on a whim. Saved a planet he knew should have been destroyed, simply to prove to himself that he still could. Purposely ignoring what the Red Carnivorous Maw would have one day meant to a few obscure solar systems several generations down the line. He'd decided, all on his own, that their history was unimportant in the long run. Simply because he could.

And now he longed for nothing more than home. For centuries now, for most of his adult life, only one place had ever felt like home to him. But what did he have waiting for him? Donna was lost, forever, and he could never forget the pleading, the accusation, in her eyes as he wiped her memory of everything she was. Of everything she had become. And he'd avoided Martha's calls for months, until he assumed she finally took the hint. Because what could he say to her, really? To the brave and honorable woman who had always sacrificed so much for him, who had fearlessly risked her life to save him, to save her entire planet. More than once. What could he say to her, when at the moment he felt like an absolute coward? Fearing for his life, for this one, flawed, broken incarnation, when she had looked madmen and monsters in the eye and laughed. And how could he avoid Jack, who right now understood more about sacrifice and suffering and terrible decisions than any other friend in the universe? When what Jack craved more than anything else was the Doctor's forgiveness, or absolution, or even his condemnation. After the Doctor had purposely made himself conspicuously unavailable when Jack needed him the most. Not that he would have ever asked for help.

Sarah had once told him he had the biggest family on Earth, and right now he felt that weighing upon him like a curse.

"So, Doctor," he said to himself and rubbed his hands over his face. "Where to next, on this doomed little irresponsible holiday of yours?"

Earth, then, he finally decided, because he could think of nowhere else he wanted to be. But not his Earth, not the timeline he'd cultivated for himself, full of friends and loved ones he felt he didn't quite deserve at the moment. Maybe something earlier, less civilized. He felt a slow grin creep across his face. England, but in the days of knights and jousting and courtly intrigue and lords and kings and queens.

He stepped up to the console and began lazily operating the controls, slipping back into the vortex with well-practiced ease. And then the TARDIS went mad, spinning, slipping through dimensions, tossed like a single leaf in a raging river. There was nothing the Doctor could do to stop it.

* * *

"Huh?" he replied, looking up from a panel of complicated circuitry and removing his glasses. "Coffee? Naw, no thanks, Ianto. Although, I could actually murder a cup of tea at the moment."

"Of course, sir," Ianto said with a slightly exasperated smile. He was rather fond of his reputation for making the best coffee in the world, so of course it had to be his luck that his boss only ever drank tea. Though Ianto did keep asking, hoping to catch him off guard one day.

"And Ianto, how long have we worked together?"

"Five weeks, sir, ever since I transferred from London."

He put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a wide, warm smile. "Then could you please stick to calling me John, like everyone else around here does? No sir, no Doctor, just… John. That's all I want to be at the moment."

Ianto had heard it before, but some part of him still rebelled. The tall, lanky man in the blue pinstriped suit, very attractive in a deep plum dress shirt and a dark blue tie, he couldn't help but notice, seemed so much more than everyone else around him. He was brilliant, that much was true, but everyone at Torchwood was brilliant. Genius didn't even begin to describe him. There was something ageless about him, something timeless and wonderful and terrifying all at once. And the name John Smith did not come close to describing him.

But he nodded, and made a note to himself to try harder. "Of course, Doctor. John."

"There ya go!" he said glibly, then turned back to the panel. "That wasn't so hard. You're a good man, Ianto. In any universe."

Rose strode into the room, and John turned back at the sound of her clipped steps. His eyes grew wide and warm, as they always did when Rose strode into a room. Rose made the John's face light up. And of course, she always softened around him as well. The former assistant director of Torchwood, who'd left for two years, only to show up at Cardiff to freelance on his own special project. Those two had been at it for half a decade, turning Torchwood 3 into their own private research lab. Not that anybody minded. Between them they'd probably developed half of Earth's defense systems, and stopped a dozen wars.

"Hello, Ma'am," John said with a smirk, and he gave her a flippant little two-fingered salute.

"Doctor Smith," Rose said, and stepped into the circle of mirrors.

"So it's all right when she does it," Ianto said with a chuckle, stepping away from Doctor Smith's special project.

"Well, I'm afraid my wife does retain certain privileges," he said as he took her hand.

"How far along are we?" Rose asked, peering into the open panel of the semi-organic mass in the center.

"Aw, she's still just a baby," he said and gave the bright blue lump an affectionate pat. "Aren't ya, girl? But, I dunno, maybe with a bit more rift energy, she should be ready for a little jump in a couple more weeks."

"Really?"

He put on his glasses again and returned to the panel, turning on his sonic screwdriver. Ianto was already halfway across the warehouse.

"Yeah... Just a couple minutes, at first, but still. That's just brill-"

As he reached the door, Ianto heard the most mysterious sound, and a flash of blue enveloped the room. By the time he turned back, the entire apparatus had disappeared. John and Rose along with it.

* * *

"The Time Lords overreact to everything," the Doctor told Romana in a wistful sort of voice. "Look at the way they treat me. I suspect one day, in a few hundred years from now, someone will meet me and say, 'Is that really the Doctor? How strange. He seemed such a nice old man.' "

Romana chuckled. "Only if you're very lucky, Doctor. Somehow I don't see you lasting that long."

"Oh, but that's a terrible thing to say," the Doctor said as he led the TARDIS into the vortex.

"That's all right," she said softly, moving close to him. "I happen to think you're rather nice as you are."

"Oh," he said, setting the TARDIS to drift as he turned to her, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Is that so, Madam President?"

She smiled at him, and laid her hand on his. "Come now, I get quite enough of that on Gallifrey. And it's driving me mad. I can't tell you how... grateful... I am that you convinced me to join you on this little escapade."

The Doctor took her hand gently, and gave it a brief, tender kiss. "But the pleasure is all mine, Romana. As always."

Romana sighed, looking into his eyes, a blue-grey flecked with green this time. Rather pretty. She always liked his pretty incarnations. No one ever looked at her like that anymore, as though they saw a woman, an equal. Now, trapped in her own schemes and plots and struggles on Gallifrey, everyone looked at her as a force of nature, as something less and yet more than what she truly was. But the Doctor saw through everything. Could sense her, the real Romana under all the masks and pretenses forced upon her by a life on Gallifrey. A life spent in the ultimate echelons of authority among the most powerful beings in the universe.

And so she kissed him, to forget, and to remember who she was when they first met, the person he saw when he looked at her like that. Centuries worth of memories, all wrapped up in him. A hundred years could pass between them, had passed between them, but this would always feel so natural.

He pressed her against the console, his body against hers as his kisses turned urgent, frantic. As his hands began to roam over her body, she sensed his mind brushing against her, surprised at how quickly this incarnation lost control, when in his last body he'd been so guarded and calculating. No, this was a Doctor made for reacting to the world, not controlling it. And that only made her want him more. Made her want to ravish him, and make him whimper, to see that pretty face incoherent with pleasure.

But then the universe had to spoil it all by unraveling around them.

* * *

The Doctor considered the day to have gone rather marvelously so far. Especially after the previous evening's interminable discussions with Turlough regarding that unfortunate incident in Russia, and the Doctor's own thoughtless and foolhardy habit of keeping Turlough in the dark as to the true dangers of a given situation. The morning had begun as his lover awoke and graced him with a pleasant, pleasurable surprise. Not that the Doctor had been asleep, really, but he'd come to regard the long hours in bed pressed against Turlough's warm, supple body as a grateful luxury.

He then spent the next few hours baking and cooking as Turlough returned to his slumber. The Doctor couldn't remember a companion spending so much time sleeping, but then, he'd never traveled with a Trion before, and besides, what did that matter? They had a time machine. And only each other to worry about. He'd grown quite fond of the situation.

After a hearty breakfast, where they both behaved like perfect gentlemen, mostly, and managed to avoid any further arguments, they made their way to the console room to get started with their day.

"So?" Turlough finally asked, after the Doctor had made it around the center console twice, checking and rechecking the readings.

The Doctor had to smile. Turlough really did look quite adorable with his arms crossed feigning jaded disinterest. But those quizzical ice blue eyes remained fixed on the Doctor, giving Turlough away.

"So…" the Doctor began, sidling up next to Turlough. "I don't have any particular plans for today, so I was wondering what you would like to do."

Turlough shrugged, managing to look pleased and dismissive at the same time. "I found a few of my half-finished sketches from our last trip to the Eye of Orion," he replied, with a coy little smile.

Turlough really was a lovely artist, and his watercolors had a subtle grace that the Doctor found very relaxing. He kept the only painting Turlough had managed to finish during their first eventful holiday at the Eye of Orion hanging prominently in the room they'd shared for the past year and a half. Had it really only been so recently that they'd found each other? Already their time together had begun to seem too brief. And the Doctor was determined to savor every stolen moment he spent with his endearing ginger minx.

"I think that's a rather marvelous idea," he said, with a warm grin.

Turlough gave him a little peck on the cheek, chaste yet tantalizing. "Thanks," he said softly, then took his place on the other side of the console.

Together, they piloted the TARDIS deeper into the vortex, and everything began to go wrong.

* * *

NOTES:

Thanks so much for reading this opening chapter! I've already gotten started on the next increment, which I'll post very soon. Wanna read more? Give me those reviews!

And in case you were wondering where in the timeline these lovely Doctors are at the moment:

Eleven: Right after the Lodger, but before the Pandorica Opens.

Ten: After the Waters of Mars, but before the End of Time.

10.5/Meta-crisis/Handy/John: About 7 or 8 years after Journey's End, and 5 years after my awesome story that you should totally check out (shameless plug) called "Hello, Doctor. I'm the Doctor." It's on Teaspoon and an Open mind.

Eight: Immediately after Shada, a truly excellent Big Finish audio/BBC webcast adopted from a script by Douglas Addams! It's on YouTube for free. But there won't be any spoilers or references to it really, it's just a pretty keen story. And Eight's first line was written by Addams, I won't take credit. Oh, and for Romana, it's still relatively early in her presidency. Long before the Time War, or any of her other Big Finish stuff.

Five: Between Ressurection of the Daleks and Planet of Fire, specifically after the Big Finish audio Singularity, but the only reference was to the Doctor and Turlough having a fight about the Doctor being thoughtless and getting foolishly caught up in things. Which is really more of a character trait than a spoiler, heh heh.


	2. Ch 2: That's a Bit Complicated

Ta da! Thanks to your reviews, chapter two has miraculously appeared! I've already got chapter three almost finished, so check back soon for updates.

Oh, and I suppose I forgot to mention, I don't own Doctor Who, and instead am forever indebted to the BBC.

* * *

Chapter 2: That's a Bit Complicated

Once things had settled down within the TARDIS, Amy stood on shaky legs, pulling herself up on the ledge of the console.

"Where are we?" she asked, sounding exhausted.

"I'm not sure," the Doctor replied, engrossed in the readings on the monitor.

"It seems habitable," River said, checking the instruments. "But I can't be sure of anything else. These readings don't seem to make any sense."

"Yes," the Doctor said, suddenly sounding grim. "You're right. But I think I'm starting to recognize this place."

"Where have you taken us this time?" River whispered, stroking the bright center column.

"I think, we should try to leave," the Doctor said, sounding both concerned and disappointed.

"Well that doesn't sound like you at all," Amy said, settling back down on the seat.

"Doctor, you said try..."

"Yes, I did," he said, giving River an appraising look. "I doubt we'll get very far. No, we were pulled here, dragged here on purpose. I don't think they'll let us go quite so easily."

Still, he did make a valiant attempt, that ended with sparks and smoke and a small, self-contained fire that quickly went out.

"Right then," River said, all business as she double-checked her belt and holster. "Let's take a look around, shall we?"

"I was just about to suggest that," the Doctor said, standing beside her.

"Oh, all right," Amy said with a moan. "Let's go explore the featureless void."

They stepped outside, into a barren gray landscape, all crags and boulders and looming piles of rocks.

"Oh great," Amy said, a wry grin crossing her face. "A quarry."

River laughed, but the Doctor simply pointed to the sky. "Not quite."

Amy looked up and gasped. The stars had gone dark, pinpoints of black in a gray sky that stretched across the horizon.

"This is the anti-matter universe," River said, unable to disguise the trepidation in her voice.

"Yeah, I was afraid of that," the Doctor replied. "But come on, no sense standing about. Let's go see what Omega wants this time."

And at this, River seemed excited. She slipped an arm around his, and Amy thought they looked like the perfect new couple, off on their first date. "Doctor, you certainly know how to show an archeologist a good time."

"Well, I do try my hardest to keep you entertained," he replied, smirking.

Amy rolled her eyes and walked ahead of them. "Come on, you two, before I throw up. I think I liked you better when you were arguing."

"How was I supposed to know?" she heard a familiar voice shout in the distance.

And a familiar voice answered back, aggravated as she shouted. "Well what did you think was gonna happen when you go off the careful schedule we all agreed to for some of your 'jiggery-pokery'? Bloody hell, John! We're supposed to be picking up the kids in two hours."

"It's a time machine, Rose, we can be back five minutes before we left," he replied, exasperated.

The Doctor dashed ahead of her, scrabbling up a low hill, River and Amy running to catch up.

"Fancy meeting you two here!" the Doctor said from the peak, then laughed. And then Amy and Rose and the two Doctors, well, one and a half Doctors, really, were all embracing like old friends.

Which in a sense, they were. Though it had been only a few weeks for Amy since they'd all accidentally met for tea, it was obvious years had passed for them. The half-human Doctor, John, seemed especially different. He hadn't aged much, particularly, but there was a pleasant lightness in his expression. In Rose as well, but it seemed especially noticeable in him. They both looked fabulously content.

Until John noticed River, and a strange mix of excitement, guilt, apprehension, and longing crossed his face. "River Song..." He said, his voice trailing off.

"Hello, Doctor," River said, with a slow smile as she took his hand. "Pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard so many stories."

"It's just John, for now, really," he said, wearing a wide, sheepish grin, unaware that Amy's Doctor was casting suddenly suspicious glances between both of them. And that Rose was glaring daggers.

"And how's the little one?" Amy asked, rescuing him.

"Twins, actually," Rose said, a little tersely, at the same moment that John pulled his hand back from River's, as though surprised to still find it there. "I'm Rose, his wife."

"Oh, but that's fantastic!" the Doctor said, embracing both John and Rose at once. All three laughed as they pulled away.

"Donna and Adric," John said, placing a hand on the Doctor's shoulder as they locked eyes.

"Lovely names," the Doctor said in a warm voice, and squeezed John's hand for a moment.

"They're almost 6!" Rose said, and pulled out her phone to show off the pictures.

But of course, it didn't work. For a moment, they were all surprised. Then the Doctor looked up at the sky. "Oh, yeah. About that..."

* * *

The Doctor had always liked sneaking around, ever since he was a child. He'd been small for his age, and very isolated, and very curious. So he'd turned spying into a game, enjoying the thrilling sensation of seeming to disappear in plain sight. However, this time, as the Tenth Doctor spied on the group from a hidden enclave, he felt like some sort of perverse voyeur.

Rose stood in the center of the crowd, drawing his gaze, as she always did. Absolutely beautiful, and fearless. Her hair was darker now, a more natural blonde, and she wore a blue blazer with a skirt and high-heeled boots. Very professional. She seemed incredibly mature and confident, a woman, now, when for so long the Doctor had chosen to remember her as a 19-year old girl, young and innocent. Now she seemed impossibly distant, beyond him, beyond even his memory of her, but still Rose. Still his Rose.

And then he was brutally reminded of the fact that she was his no longer when his half-human doppelganger casually draped an arm around her. He felt his chest suddenly clench as he saw them together. She leaned into his touch, again, very casually. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

He could still hear the words that half-human Doctor had spoken on that desolate beach, the words that had cemented his final decision, reminding him of the promises he'd never be able to keep. "I've only got one life, Rose Tyler. I could spend it with you, if you want."

The Tenth Doctor forced his gaze away from the couple to survey the rest of the crowd, and his hearts clenched again when he saw River, standing next to a young, slightly awkward man in a bow tie. Standing very close to him, the Doctor realized. The other man couldn't quite keep his eyes from her, and as he bumped against her playfully, the Tenth Doctor heard River laugh. It was a lovely sound, wild and free, though it couldn't wipe away the image of her body convulsing as millions of volts of electricity coursed through her. The memory of being trapped, handcuffed, as River died in front of him. Died to save him, even though he'd never met her before. Knowing he was the one forced to suffer the loss, that he would be the one left to grieve, to pay the true cost for her sacrifice. All while a future version of him enjoyed the pleasure of her company. Of that teasing laugh, and those knowing eyes. Of finding someone, loving someone, he would one day trust with his deepest secrets, with his true name, the one thing he'd always kept to himself throughout his centuries of self-imposed exile. And all at once he realized exactly who the silly fob in the tweed and bow tie truly was. The Tenth Doctor felt a dark, bitter stab of pure rage.

"So who are we spying on, exactly?" said a familiar voice at his side.

The Tenth Doctor turned, shocked that anyone could have snuck up on him. "What?"

And the Fifth Doctor laughed, "Oh, let's not start that again, Doctor."

He smiled, genuinely pleased and surprised to see him. "Oh, that's just brilliant."

"Pleasure to see you again," the Fifth Doctor said, extending a hand. Which the Tenth Doctor ignored as he pulled him into a hug.

Then he noticed the lanky ginger schoolboy standing a few feet away.

"Turlough!" he said, turning to him.

"Hello," Turlough replied, a little uncertain.

The Tenth Doctor pulled him into a tight embrace, rejoicing in the feel of his body, so much warmer than most species. Breathing in the unique, tantalizing smell of his skin, like fresh mint and cinnamon all at once. He couldn't help but melt, just a bit, at the pleasure of holding Turlough in his arms once again. His Turlough. Out of a millennia of friends and lovers, Turlough was the one who loved him because of his darkness, not despite it. And he'd rarely felt as dark and desolate as he did now, so close to the end of this incarnation. So he let the embrace linger, let himself drift into the memories of pleasure and pain and desire that would always surround his beautiful, complicated, treacherous Turlough.

"Erm, yes," the Fifth Doctor said, sounding obviously uncomfortable. "Turlough, I'd like to introduce you to, well, myself."

Turlough began to pull away, pausing to search the Tenth Doctor's face for anything familiar. And because he knew it would drive Turlough mad, he gave him a wink and clicked his tongue before releasing him.

"That's me!" he said, wearing a manic grin. "The one and only Doctor Number Ten!"

He spun around with a little flourish, and was grateful to hear Turlough laugh.

"So I take it you're trapped here as well," the Fifth Doctor said, suddenly suspicious.

"Yep," he replied, still meeting Turlough's appreciative gaze.

"How long has it been for you," the Fifth Doctor asked, moving closer, standing in front of him to draw his attention.

"A long time," the Tenth Doctor said, his voice turning hollow and melancholy as the smile slid from his face. "A lifetime, it seems. I haven't... I haven't had an easy time of late."

The Fifth Doctor placed a consoling arm on his shoulder. "I'm sorry to hear that."

The Tenth Doctor shrugged him off and looked away.

"But wait a minute," Turlough said, staring into the dim hollow in the distance. "How can you be here, when it looks like you're over there?"

"Ah, yes," the Tenth Doctor replied. "Well, that's a bit complicated actually."

"Complicated or not, it seems we're all stuck here together," the Fifth Doctor said. "Why don't we stop by and say hello?"

The Tenth Doctor moved away from the ledge, suddenly unnerved. "I can't," the Tenth Doctor said in a low, husky voice. "I just can't."

"But we're all trapped here," the Fifth Doctor said plaintively. "We need to work together."

"I can't!" the Tenth Doctor replied, raising his voice. "I can't face them. Not right now, not like this. Not when they all look so... happy together."

He spat the last two words out like a curse, and the Fifth Doctor backed away slightly, moving in front of Turlough. As though trying to protect him. The Tenth Doctor chuckled, but it was a bitter, mirthless sound.

"What have you done?" the Fifth Doctor hissed. "Tell me what you've done. What you're so ashamed of."

"I've been on my own for a long time," the Tenth Doctor said in a grim, quiet tone, stuffing his hands in his pockets. His eyes suddenly gleamed in the pale light, his expression purposely blank, even as something sinister edged through. "There were some things... I've done some things that went wrong. And now I'm going to die. Soon. Oh, but if you think I'm going to stand there next to the man who's going to go sauntering off after I'm gone, living the life I should have led, then you are dead wrong, Doctor. Dead wrong."

And with that, he strode passed his younger self, purposely brushing Turlough's shoulder with his own as he walked off, alone, into the darkness.


	3. Ch 3: Fancy Meeting You Here

Chapter 3: Fancy Meeting You Here

Thanks for reading, everyone! I've got the next two chapters written and I'll be posting them soon. You keep reviewing, and I'll keep writing. (^_~)

I don't own Doctor Who, thought I stand in grateful awe of those who do.

"Oh, it's you! Brilliant! Really, truly, absolutely brilliant!" John said, sounding like an overexcited fan boy. "Rose, this is the Doctor. My Doctor! My absolute most favorite Doctor in the whole world. Good old number five!"

"Erm, yes," the Fifth Doctor said, looking sheepish and rubbing the back of his head.

John captured him in a bear hug, laughing and spinning him around before releasing him. "Oh, and you brought Turlough, too? This is better than Christmas."

"Yes," Turlough drawled, buttoning his jacket after being released from John's brief embrace. "It's a pleasure meeting you. Again."

"Again?" the Eleventh Doctor said, exchanging a worried look with John.

"I was rather hoping you'd explain that to me," the Fifth Doctor asked in a serious tone. "We seem to have run across your double. When I asked him about it, he wasn't exactly forthcoming."

"If by 'not forthcoming,' you mean looked absolutely terrified and ran away, then yes, he wasn't exactly forthcoming at all, was he?" Turlough said sarcastically, smirking fondly at the Fifth Doctor.

"Yes, well, I was getting to that part," the Fifth Doctor replied.

"Yeah, that sounds like him, all right," Rose said, not quite masking the bitterness in her voice.

Amy had taken an instant liking to the Fifth Doctor, and especially to his snarky companion. Rarely had a sneering schoolboy seemed so charming. Of course, he hardly looked young enough to still be in school, Amy decided. Probably 19. More likely his smart little outfit was an affectation, like the Fifth Doctor's ridiculous cricket get up. And celery.

"Wait a minute…" Amy said suddenly, pointing at Turlough. "You're… You're his boyfriend, aren't you? You're, like, the Doctor's space boyfriend!"

Turlough sighed and made a little steeple of his hands in front of his chest, which Amy thought made him look rather like a supervillian. "I suppose, if you want to use a childish Earthling term to describe the relationship between two superior species."

Amy laughed and gave him a playful little punch in the arm. "I knew it! Well, good for you. The two of you are absolutely adorable! And you, by the way, are a bit full of yourself, aren't you?"

He rolled his eyes and chuckled. "You have no idea."

"Oh, I like you," she said, still laughing, and took his arm. "Us gingers have to stick together, right?"

"Right…" Turlough said, not entirely without sarcasm.

Romana was very glad she'd changed into gray slacks and knee-high boots before leaving the TARDIS. The ground was rough, rocky, all scrambling through harsh terrain in the semi-darkness of the impossible sky.

"You know where we are, don't you?" she asked the Eighth Doctor as they made their way up a low hill.

"I have some suspicions," he said quietly. "Nothing good, I'm afraid."

"The antimatter universe," Romana said matter-of-factly.

"Yes, insightful as always," he replied as she approached the summit.

"Romana!" she heard three wistful voices call out in unison.

"Of course," she said, resigned, but excited. "Hello, Doctors!"

She waved at the small crowd gathered near an unusual apparatus that seemed to be connected to an immature TARDIS. They moved forward to greet her, until the Eighth Doctor reached the summit to stand by her side. Two of the figures froze in place, unnoticed by the rest of the group. The Eighth Doctor gave her a worried glance, then they both made their way down to the small hollow below.

"How did I know this little excursion of yours wasn't going to end quite how you expected?" Romana said as they scrambled down.

"Because none of them ever do?" the Eighth Doctor replied.

Romana chuckled as she made it to the bottom before him.

"Romana," the Fifth Doctor said, placing both hands on her shoulders and giving her a warm smile. "Fancy meeting you here."

"There's nothing fancy about it," Romana said drily. "Oh, and this is Doctor number eight."

"A pleasure," the Eighth Doctor said, shaking the Fifth Doctor's hand.

"Likewise," the he replied. "Always nice to know I've got a long future ahead of me."

"I think introductions all around are in order," Romana said, surveying the group.


	4. Ch 4: Damaged, Fragile, Feral

Chapter 4: Damaged, Fragile, Feral

* * *

Ok, fair warning. In this chapter, the Tenth Doctor is not quite himself, and does some terrible things to poor, lovely Turlough. Nothing truly graphic, but definitely sinister and non-consensual. So if that sort of stuff bothers you, feel free to skip this chapter and move on to the next.

* * *

Turlough would never admit how much of his identity was now wrapped up in being the consort of a god. Or an angel, perhaps. A better description. His Doctor had certainly been an angel to him, something else he would never admit, although in that particular case he was absolutely certain the Doctor was aware of the effect he'd had on Turlough's otherwise rather tortured existence. A lifetime of isolation, his own fate always outside of his control, at first as the elder son of a powerful Imperial Clan, every moment of his life scheduled and controlled. And then as a villain and a martyr, beaten and ravaged and brutalized by turns during his many months as a prisoner after Trion's government had fallen. Then branded, exiled, and forgotten. Left with memories of pain and torture and death, of his mother's execution, of being torn away from his father and the infant brother he'd only met once. Trapped on Earth for the rest of his days. Until the Doctor had come into his life, and made everything better. Made him better. A better person, and in the end, someone capable of love, an emotion he thought had been ripped out of him in the terrible aftermath of that bitter, pointless civil war.

But his Doctor was kind, above all else. Kinder than Turlough felt he deserved. The Doctor had forgiven him, even though Turlough had never, would never, forgive himself for once agreeing to assassinate the man who would save him. He treated him with a tenderness and gentle respect Turlough had never known, and felt certain he didn't deserve. Even though things would always be imperfect between them, because Turlough had learned long, long ago that nothing was ever perfect. That he could never be perfect. He felt certain that they would never last as long as Turlough might have hoped. Could never last, if what he knew about the Doctor's past was any indication.

Turlough was fiercely devoted to his Doctor, despite his own failings, his selfishness and his cowardice, and the inevitable consequences of both. And the Doctor, his Doctor, the man who had denied both the presidency over his own people and the absolute power of a god over the entire universe, he seemed to have an infinite capacity for gentleness, and forgiveness, and understanding.

He'd always found it rather unsettling to think about the fact that somewhere, across the universe, there were other men who shared his Doctor's name, his memories. Incarnations of him who seemed so very different, yet with an undeniable sense of familiarity. On Gallifrey, he'd gotten to know the Doctor as an old man, who was ironically several hundred years younger than the charming, playful, boyish Doctor Turlough claimed as his own. And looking back, that first incarnation really had felt young. Brash, tetchy, and demanding, but not yet timeless, perhaps. Lacking some of the idealistic determination that always contrasted with his deep-set melancholy, the weight of so many mistakes and so much suffering. Which had drawn Turlough to the Doctor in the first place. Had made him sense a kindred spirit, beneath the smiles that didn't always reach his eyes.

Back at the hollow, surrounded by his Doctor's later incarnations, Turlough suddenly realized how young his Doctor truly was. Especially when he had looked into the eyes of his brooding, sensual, tenth incarnation. Tall, slim, and delicate, with a face just a little too pinched to be beautiful, but all the more alluring because of it. He hated to admit how much he found himself drawn to this other Doctor, to this older incarnation who seemed so much darker, so much lonelier. Who made the Fifth Doctor seem as young and innocent as his face. Turlough, who had known cruelty for so much of his life, sensed a savage streak of it within the Tenth Doctor, and to his disgrace, that only attracted him even more. When he had quietly left the group, ostensibly for a few moments of solitude, a dangerous, rebellious part of him had hoped that he would find the Tenth Doctor in the wilderness. Even as another part of him was absolutely horrified at the prospect. Because this was a Doctor who could not be trusted, and that in itself was terrifying.

As though the universe had been reading his mind, Turlough turned a corner and found the Tenth Doctor, languidly leaning against a boulder with his hands in his pockets, a gesture he'd always found tremendously endearing in his Doctor. It made the Fifth Doctor seem unbelievably boyish. But on this Tenth Doctor, the pose reminded Turlough of a wolf, ready to strike. Merely biding his time.

"So this is where you've been hiding," Turlough said, unable to keep his tone from sounding quite so teasing, quite so flirty.

"Yep," the Tenth Doctor replied, popping the last syllable, a childish sound at odds with the predatory expression on his face. "I was wondering when you'd turn up."

"Well," he said, and put his hands behind his back. "Here I am."

"Where are you, exactly?" the Tenth Doctor asked, moving close to him with frightening speed. "Is it just the two of you already? The lonely angel and his consort exploring the universe? Tell me… Have the cracks already started to show? The arguments? The bitter silences?"

And Turlough said nothing, because it was true.

"He was a fool, I was a fool, to ever push you away…"

Turlough crossed his arms across his chest, attempting to look cold and defiant, determined to be loyal. "My Doctor may be many things, but he's never been a fool."

The Tenth Doctor reached out and softly stroked Turlough's face, "Oh, but I was. Trust me."

Turlough closed his eyes. His pulse quickened as the Tenth Doctor pressed against him, uncrossed Turlough's arms and held his fragile wrists in a tight grip. He gave a little gasp, aroused and hating it. The Tenth Doctor touched Turlough as though he belonged to him. But he didn't, Turlough reminded himself. Not to this Doctor.

When he opened his eyes again, the Tenth Doctor's face was just inches from his own, and he felt as though he was losing himself in those deep, brown eyes. At the depths of darkness and pain just behind them. Those eyes seemed truly alien, only just hinting at the vast intelligence behind them. Something terrible had happened, would happen, an epic tragedy Turlough couldn't begin to comprehend, and it made his own Doctor's suffering insubstantial in comparison. But he shouldn't be able to see all those things, to know all those things, simply by looking into someone's eyes. Turlough suddenly recognized the first hints of this Tenth Doctor's mental caress.

"Don't," Turlough whispered.

The Tenth Doctor ignored him, instead, crushing his mouth against Turlough's in a desperate, hungry kiss. To Turlough's shame, he kissed him back, with fierce urgency, rough and demanding. The Doctor grabbed both of Turlough's wrists with a single strong, slender hand and held them above his head, pushing him against the boulder, thrusting his body against him. He felt the Doctor's erection straining against his own. The Doctor's kiss turned savage, and Turlough suddenly remembered the last time he'd been kissed like that. It hadn't been with his Doctor, with his gentle, loving angel. And he tore himself away from the kiss, panting.

"Stop it," Turlough said, his voice hoarse and unsteady.

"Oh, but you don't want me to," the Tenth Doctor said, his free hand roaming over Turlough's body, unbuttoning his shirt.

"No," Turlough said, more firmly this time. "I don't belong to you."

"But you don't belong to anyone, not really," he whispered. "That's what I always loved about you…"

The Doctor began to nibble his neck, pulling Turlough's tie free to lick and bite at the sensitive flesh underneath his collar. And Turlough imagined the look of betrayal his Doctor's face would wear when he later saw the marks. An expression he'd already experienced far too often.

"Stop it!" Turlough shouted. "I mean it. I won't let you do this."

"I think you will, Turlough. It's been so long, and I've been so lonely…"

Turlough began to struggle, trying to break free, but the Doctor's grip was like steel. "Please," he said, true fear and desperation in his voice. "Please, not like this. Just… let me go. This isn't what I want."

Instead, the Doctor slipped his hand into Turlough's pants, stroking his embarrassing erection. Turlough let out a little sob.

"Oh, I missed that sound," the Doctor said. "That's brilliant. Those little whimpers you make when it feels good. Or when it hurts. You never really learned to tell the difference, did you?"

And suddenly the Tenth Doctor was in his mind. Turlough gasped, his whole body arching. His own Doctor had once compared Turlough's mind to a labyrinth, full of complications and secrets. He once told Turlough he could never quite tell what he was thinking, that he considered it one of the things that made him such an interesting companion. But his Doctor was gentle, respectful. He never pushed him to share, never prodded him into divulging the memories and emotions he kept to himself. Even when the Fifth Doctor made him incoherent with pleasure and pain and sensation, he'd always treaded so carefully within Turlough's mind, like he was tiptoeing over eggshells. Because he recognized Turlough for what he was–damaged, fragile, feral. Ready to bolt at the slightest provocation. Whenever the Fifth Doctor had touched Turlough's thoughts it had been a loving experience, tender and comforting.

This wasn't like that.


	5. Ch 5: To Live with the Consequences

Chapter 5: To Live with the Consequences

* * *

If Amy had thought following a conversation with one scatterbrained Time Lord was bad enough... She sat cross-legged on the ground, watching four and a half Time Lords, alongside two rather clever humans in their own right, reach absolutely epic heights of technobabble as they attempted to explain the situation.

"So, I think I have it now," Romana said finally. "You are the latest incarnation."

"Hello!" the Eleventh Doctor said with a cheerful wave.

"And you're a meta-crisis clone of the tenth incarnation?"

"I wouldn't say clone," John said rather defensively, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm... a blend. An amalgamation of the Tenth Doctor and his friend Donna Noble. She's brilliant. Although, well, actually, I don't think you would have gotten along with her very well, Romana."

"And these two charming ladies are?" the Eight Doctor asked, gesturing toward River and Rose.

"Oh I know this!" Amy said, just happy to finally have something to say. "They're your future wives! Well, sort of..."

"That's unconfirmed!" the Eleventh Doctor said loudly, then shot a nervous glance toward River. She merely smiled, and gave him a little wink.

"And I'm Amy," she said, standing up again and brushing the pale dust off her skirt and dark leggings. "One day, you'll become my imaginary friend."

"You know, that sounds rather charming," the Eight Doctor said, smiling at John and Eleven. "Seems exactly like the sort of thing I'd do."

The two didn't return his warmth. Instead, they exchanged brooding stares with each other, jaws clenched, as though willing themselves into silence. The Eighth Doctor seemed to notice, but said nothing.

"However, that still doesn't explain what we're doing here, exactly," the Fifth Doctor said in a weary tone, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Or why the Tenth Doctor ran away from Turlough and me. Actually..."

And then the Fifth Doctor looked around, as though realizing something for the first time.

"Turlough?" he called out, looking past the group, towards the apparatus slightly in the distance.

"Oh yeah," Amy said, stifling a yawn. "He went off for a walk a while ago."

"What," John said in a flat voice.

"Oh dear," the Fifth Doctor said, his eyes wide.

"That Turlough," the Eighth Doctor said almost wistfully. "He gets into the most terrible trouble..."

* * *

"Now where has that foolish boy wandered off to," the Doctor muttered to himself, feeling quite cross.

Here they were, trapped in a hellish antimatter universe by a legendary, omnipotent Time Lord psychopath, who happened to have an admittedly justified grudge against this particular incarnation. And what does Turlough do? Wander off into the darkness, alone. Without telling him!

The only thing that made the situation bearable was that he finally had an argument he could win.

He kicked a few stones ahead of him as he walked, hands in pockets, thinking about Gallifrey, history, and timelines. And he wondered what must have happened to turn the cheerful Tenth Doctor he'd once bumped into in the TARDIS into the brooding, slightly sinister version of himself he would one day become.

It did nothing to calm his nervousness, thinking that there might be more than one unstable Time Lord running around the antimatter universe.

How much of it was his fault? Because he knew all too well that all of his previous incarnations lived inside of him. Their guilt, their pain, their mistakes, they always weighed heavily on his soul. He didn't know how much time he had left in this body, with this mind, but he knew he already had so much to be guilty of. Genocide, and worse. Hypocrisy. Betrayal. Thinking back, he couldn't recall a lifetime with a higher body count. It seemed that wherever he went, everyone around him ended up dead, or worse. Even the people he cared about the most weren't safe. Even Adric. He had been like a son to his fourth incarnation, and like a brother to him. An annoying younger brother, perhaps, but still. Adric had been family to him. And before he died, they had quarreled, and the Doctor had said terrible things he wished to take back more than anything.

But he couldn't. History didn't work like that. Not his history, at least. There were moments in time that were fixed. His burden as a Time Lord was to always know the difference. His responsibility as the Doctor was to make the hard choices, and to live with the consequences.

As he was living with them now. Omega was his responsibility. More than any of his other selves, he recognized Omega, the Omega that existed now, as his creation. Omega had taken the Fifth Doctor's form, his biometric imprint, and with it a part of his soul. The last time he'd encountered Omega, the Doctor had finally recognized him for what he was. A victim. Whether a victim of Rassilon's betrayal, the Time Lord's indifference, or the Doctor's own meddling didn't matter. The Omega he had, with a heavy heart, sent back into the antimatter universe had been a broken man, at war with himself, with a schizoid, fractured soul. Driven mad, no longer by isolation, but by the Doctor's own guilt. He shuddered to think what that said about himself, and his thoughts turned again to the Tenth Doctor. The future incarnation who had once claimed the Fifth Doctor as HIS Doctor, the one he had based so much of his personality on. The one who lived closest in his hearts. Is that the sort of man the Doctor would ultimately become? Tortured, fractured, driven mad with guilt and regret?

The Eleventh Doctor didn't seem as wounded, but then perhaps he was still young. He knew from experience that regeneration created a refreshing break from the burdens of the past, but as he always seemed to repeat the same mistakes, the familiar memories would once again weigh him down, eventually. As they now weighed heavily upon the Fifth Doctor. And he wondered, not for the first time, how much longer he had left in this body, and whether that would be a curse, or a blessing.

Lost in his morbid thoughts, he didn't notice the sound of scrambling footsteps until Turlough was right in front of him.

"Doctor," Turlough moaned, and ran towards him.

He was filthy, bruised, his clothes torn. Covered in dust and caked with sticky blood. And then Turlough was shaking. Sobbing. Collapsing into his Doctor's arms.

"I'm sorry," Turlough muttered between sobs, staining the Doctor's shirt with blood and tears. He smelled of panic, and violence, and lust.

"What's happened?" the Doctor asked in a quiet, gentle voice, stroking Turlough's head tenderly as he held him.

"He attacked me," Turlough whispered.

The Fifth Doctor didn't need to ask who. And as he held his shuddering Turlough in a soft embrace, the Doctor began to tremble as well. Not with fear, but with pure black anger.

* * *

Notes:

At this point I feel I should probably explain a bit about Omega's past for those of you who haven't seen much of the classic series. Omega was one of the founding fathers of Time Lord society, a partner to Rassilon and the creator of the Eye of Harmony, time travel technology, and an all around legendary guy. The first guy to create a black hole. One of the Doctor's childhood heroes. But Omega was betrayed and trapped in a dimension of pure antimatter, possibly by Rassilon himself.

When Omega went mad and attempted to destroy the universe, the Time Lords sent the first three Doctors to stop him, in an episode appropriately titled The Three Doctors. And the Doctors supposedly destroyed him, until Omega managed to steal the Fifth Doctor's biometric imprint, becoming the Doctor, in essence. And then they all go on a merry chase through Amsterdam in a really awesome episode called Arc of Infinity. According to the compelling yet charmingly funny Big Finish audio Omega, taking on the Fifth Doctor's imprint drove Omega even crazier and left him with a split personality. And so the Fifth Doctor once again trapped him in the antimatter universe. Poor Omega!


	6. Ch 6: Something Sinister

Chapter Six: Something Sinister

* * *

Warning, this chapter may contain an adorable bath! And lots of technobabble.

* * *

Romana thought River Song felt familiar somehow. She seemed to recall another brash archeologist hanging about the Doctor and his brother at some point. But then, there'd been so many others, so many interesting humans the Doctor had collected throughout the years.

Both Rose and River seemed incredibly at ease around the two older Doctors, and the Fifth Doctor, of course, had a talent for making anyone feel at ease. However, they acted rather nervous around the Eighth Doctor, and positively icy towards her. Amy, on the other hand, was silly, charming, and oblivious, but haunted, in a way the young ginger seemed intent on denying.

So these were the people the Doctor would one day surround himself with. An interesting mix of the fresh and familiar.

These new Doctors regarded her with wonder, grief, and trepidation, like a miracle. Or a ghost. It kept gnawing away at her mind. She had begun to suspect that a nightmare awaited them at the edge of time, and that she and the Eighth Doctor would stand at the center of the congruence.

She itched to know more. But of course, that was forbidden. And there were other, more pressing matters at hand.

Romana stepped through the circle of mirrors and into the center of the apparatus to catch the half-human Doctor, John, explaining the workings of the device to the Eleventh Doctor. "So we reflect and magnify the artron energy back into the TARDIS and magnify her ability to skim through the vortex. Well, that was the theory, anyway. We'd never made a successful jump before."

She joined the Eleventh Doctor in peering into the open paneling of the immature TARDIS.

"She's not dimensionally transcendental yet," Romana observed.

"Yeah," John said, tapping something into the keyboard under the small monitor attached to the other side of the chest-high blue console. "She's still just a baby. That's a dozen years away. But we were using the rift to help her along."

"The Cardiff rift?" the Eleventh Doctor asked, pulling out an advanced sonic screwdriver.

"I'd be a bit careful with that," John said, glancing at them over his glasses. "I think that's how we ended up here in the first place."

The Eleventh Doctor chuckled as Romana leaned in and inspected the interior workings of the TARDIS more carefully.

"You have an interdimensional stabilizer element hooked up to the materialization unit," Romana said, impressed. It was a powerful piece of experimental technology they was still being perfecting during her time.

"Yep," John said, popping the p and wearing a mischievous grin, obviously very proud. "She's a multiverse ship."

"Blimey," the Eleventh Doctor said with an appreciative whistle. "That is impressive."

"Well, you did promise me tea and jammie dodgers, remember?" John said with a wink.

The Eleventh Doctor laughed. "I did at that. I suppose you've come to collect."

Romana yanked the screwdriver from the Eleventh Doctor's hand, ignoring their witty banter. She'd already experienced several lifetimes worth of the Doctor's award-winning prattle, and there were more important things at stake.

"So," she said, scanning the complicated semi-organic circuitry stuffed into the cramped interior. "Theoretically, we could use this ship to punch a hole through the antimatter universe."

"That we can all use to escape through the void at precisely the same moment in time and space!" the Eleventh Doctor said excitedly, practically bouncing up and down.

"Theoretically," Romana added in a measured tone. "Although I'm not sure where we'd get the energy."

"From the rift," Rose said, joining them. "We designed her to always stay connected with the Cardiff rift, throughout any universe. I mean, at the moment it's only set up for communication—"

"But we can refocus that connection to draw massive amounts energy, creating a passageway through the multiverse that we can all follow to our own timelines!" the Eleventh Doctor announced, gesticulating wildly.

Rose and John grinned at each other. "Let's just hope Ianto answers his phone," John said with a chuckle.

* * *

The Doctor had immediately comforted Turlough, in all the ways he knew how. Calming him, gentling him, as he ushered Turlough back to the TARDIS. Into Turlough's favorite Edwardian bathhouse. It was a room the Doctor had long ago created just for him, for when Turlough wanted a bit of private solace, or comfort. Separate from the almost comically large bathroom and wardrobe they normally shared. And Turlough was very grateful.

A copper bathtub full of steaming water stood in the far corner, separated from a porcelain bidet and toilet by a brass paneled folding screen. The walls of the room were TARDIS blue, with dark wood moulding covering the bottom half, and gleaming cherry wood floors. A copper and glass vanity took up another corner, and an engraved wardrobe and cream chaise filled the rest of the intimate room. Turlough had hung a few watercolors on the walls, mostly landscapes and abstracts. The place felt incredibly familiar, and safe. All his. Another of the Doctor's many gifts.

"Thank you," Turlough said weakly as the Doctor led him inside.

And then the Doctor was holding him again, as Turlough broke down, until he had composed himself once more. "I'm so sorry," the Doctor said in a trembling voice as Turlough finally pulled away.

"For what?" Turlough said, defeated, but not without irony. "I'm the one who decided to wander off in the darkness of some unexplored universe surrounded by unknown dangers. Typical, I know."

"And I'm the one who didn't notice," the Doctor replied grimly, and began to undress him.

"All right then, it is your fault, for infecting me with your natural curiosity," Turlough said, managing a shaky smile, which the Doctor returned, pressing his forehead against Turlough. Pressing against the edge of the gash from when the Tenth Doctor slammed him to the ground. When the Fifth Doctor pulled away, his forehead was marked with Turlough's blood.

The Doctor noticed the smear on Turlough's forehead, and carefully wiped it away, but he didn't notice his own. The dark red mark stood out sharply against the Doctor's pale skin. He swallowed loudly. "Erm, I'm afraid I'm going to have to… examine you. Make sure you aren't…"

"I escaped," Turlough said quickly. "Before he could… Before he could get very far."

And as the Doctor slipped the torn black jacket from his shoulders, Turlough chuckled. "I hit him with a rock."

"I've always admired your resourcefulness," the Doctor said dryly, and went to the wardrobe, tossing Turlough's jacket into a wicker basket at the bottom. He took out a medical kit and laid it on the chaise.

Turlough removed his shirt, wondering briefly where his tie had gone, and dropped the garment to the floor. The Doctor approached him with a handheld medical scanner, pausing briefly to pick up the shirt and toss it into the wardrobe, fastidious as always. He noticed the Doctor's hands trembling slightly as he ran the scanner over Turlough's face, moving it down his neck, past the string of vicious red bite marks, then over his shoulders, back, and chest.

"No concussion," he said, mostly to himself. "But a small cheekbone fracture. I just can't believe…"

The Doctor let the sentence hang in the air, then turned back to the wardrobe to remove his own jacket, jumper, and shirt, leaving his braces to hang down at his sides. By the time he turned around, the rest of Turlough's clothes were in a small pile near the vanity.

He pointedly glanced at the mess, then sighed, and gave Turlough a weak smile. "Come on. Let's get you cleaned up."

And then Turlough was finally submerged in the warm, luxurious, soapy water, closing his eyes as the Doctor wiped away the blood and dirt with a lathered washcloth. His touch always gentle.

Turlough still couldn't quite believe he'd escaped. The moment the Tenth Doctor had entered his mind, Turlough felt as though he'd been caught in a waking nightmare. The Tenth Doctor had invaded him, rolling over him like a wave, knowing everything. As though he'd already known the way in. Which meant his Doctor knew, or would know, or had always known, all of Turlough's secrets. Every dark fantasy, every brutal memory, every desire, every secret shame, every caress, every petty resentment. Turlough wasn't sure which prospect terrified him the most.

The Tenth Doctor had torn away the twisted labyrinth of Turlough's thoughts and left him ripped wide open, exposed and panicked. He sensed rather than heard himself muttering the word no like a mantra, again and again in an endless cycle. He didn't know how much time passed for him, minutes or seconds or decades, as the Doctor stroked his body, and possessed his mind. But Turlough had suddenly felt something terrifying, something sinister, lurking in this cruel new Doctor's mind. And as that dark presence had snaked through his own mental barriers with chilling familiarity, Turlough had reacted in sheer terror, kicking and writhing, finally managing to tear free from the Doctor's grasp. And the Tenth Doctor had struck him, cursing, a rabid wolf denied his prey. Tossed him to the ground like a ragdoll. Dragging him to the rough, rocky earth and scrambling to hold him. Hurting Turlough however he could, as the young Trion struggled to escape.

But Turlough wasn't exactly inexperienced in these situations. He was quick, fierce, and clever, breaking free from him in the end. Then the heavy stone was in his hands, like it had been once before, with his own Doctor. But this time, Turlough hadn't hesitated.

The Fifth Doctor poured a bowl of deliciously warm water over Turlough's face, rinsing away the suds. "There you go. Much better."

Turlough looked up at him and grinned, despite the sharp jolt of pain it caused him. "Good as new."

"Not quite," the Doctor replied, and went to retrieve a few medical tools. He took the dermal regenerator and placed the rest of the devices in a nearby cubby holding white towels and paper-wrapped French soaps.

He knew the Doctor would never ask. That wasn't his way. It wasn't Turlough's way either, something else they had in common. They never pried, residing instead in the comfortable space between unspoken secrets. And so Turlough wasn't sure where to begin. He slid a little deeper into the tub, adjusting himself, as the Doctor ran the regenerator over Turlough's skin, erasing the bruises, healing the wounds. Good as new. Except Turlough remembered. He would always remember.

"Doctor," Turlough said softly as the Doctor switched tools and began to mend his shattered cheekbone.

"Hmm?"

Turlough kept his eyes closed, but he could imagine the Doctor. Bent over, concentrating, that expression of intense focus he wore whenever he put his mind to a task.

"There's something terribly wrong inside of him, Doctor," Turlough said, forcing himself to ignore the uncomfortable pressure as the Doctor used the device to guide the fragile bone segments into place.

"It's probably best if you don't talk at the moment," the Doctor said, terse and distracted as he carefully restored Turlough's delicate features.

"But you need to listen, Doctor," Turlough said, his eyes opening wide to meet the Fifth Doctor's concerned gaze as the memory finally clicked into place. "The other Doctor, he … he forced himself. He forced himself into my thoughts. And while he was there, I sensed something else inside of him. Taking control. Something sinister. Evil. Coiled around his mind. Like a snake, Doctor. Like a snake."


	7. Ch 7: Somebody to Stop Him

Chapter 7: Somebody to Stop Him

* * *

River eyed the Eighth Doctor with a strange mixture of expressions, guarded, but curious. Amy had noticed that the others avoided him, that her Doctor especially looked at him with something approaching pity, and regret, and above all a strong desire to forget he even existed. Amy didn't understand it herself. To her, he seemed harmless, warm and friendly, if a bit absentminded. Easy on the eyes, with a lovely voice. She thought he gave off a very pleasant, mellow sort of vibe. But then, her Doctor never did tell her much about his past, especially the messy parts.

"Omega's psionic energy signature shouldn't be too terribly difficult to track," the Eighth Doctor said, bent over River's data pad and running a slender sonic screwdriver over it. "And I think it's high time we had a nice long chat with our absent host, don't you think?"

"How wide a range are we talking about?" River asked.

"Miles, at least," he said vaguely. "Ah, there we are."

He pointed the device toward the lip of the hollow. Amy glanced down at the display, with a single flashing icon on the far left corner, almost off the screen completely.

"So we just use this Legendary Time Lord GPS to track down this Omega guy and convince him to let us go," Amy said with a smile. "What are we waiting for?"

"Omega is more than just a Time Lord, Amy," River said seriously. "In this universe, he's practically a god. He can create any reality around him. And he's got good reason to hate you, Doctor."

River raised an eyebrow at him, but the Eighth Doctor merely shrugged. "Apparently so, River. You're really quite sharp, you know. I can see why I'll like you so much."

"Oh, Doctor," she said with a teasing smile. "You have no idea."

He leaned a little closer to her and gave her an affectionate, childlike grin.

Amy rolled her eyes and took that as her cue to wander off. The lights from the apparatus formed a circle of glowing warmth that kept the dark twilight at bay. Romana, Rose, John, and the Eleventh Doctor were all enthralled by a flickering screen mounted on a chest-high blue amorphous lump strung with wires and covered in the Doctor's usual eclectic blend of the futuristic and the farcical.

A rather handsome man in a blue vest and a crisp starched shirt was maintaining an impressively calm tone while the rest of the group babbled excitedly about things she couldn't begin to understand.

"I won't be able to maintain the connection very long," he said finally, his delicate Welsh voice coming through hissy and crackling with static.

"No, but see, that's what's so brilliant, Ianto" John replied. "You just need to let me and Rose through. Five for the price of one! The other TARDISes can materialize through almost instantly, using the weak point between realities to skim across the vortex and back to their own timelines. Easy peasy."

Ianto laughed. "If you say so, Doctor Smith."

"Now I already talked to you about that Doctor business," he began. "Honestly, how are we supposed to maintain a casual work environment when—"

"The important thing is to wait for our signal, because we'll only get one chance," Romana interrupted, obviously exasperated. "Honestly, your ability to waste time spewing nonsense only seems to improve with every passing year."

* * *

The Fifth Doctor returned to find the group buzzing with activity. Several open tool kits stood scattered near the apparatus. Nearly everybody was hard at work at something, delving into the circuitry of the immature TARDIS, stringing connections between the circle of mirrors, and passing tools back and forth.

Yes, that circle of mirrors would definitely come in handy, though probably not the way they thought.

Before they made their presence known, the Doctor reached out for Turlough's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "You don't have to stay if you don't want to," he said. "If you'd prefer to stay in the TARDIS..."

Turlough shook his head quickly. "No, Doctor. I want to help."

He smiled at him, enveloping Turlough in a tight embrace and kissing him lightly on the lips.

"Come on," Turlough said, shrugging him off with a good-natured chuckle. "You worry about me far too much, Doctor."

He watched Turlough step into the small hollow, still smiling as he heard him call out hello. The Doctor had always been impressed by Turlough's defiant resilience, despite the difficult paths his life always seemed to follow. True, Turlough too often wore that defiance like a mask, to keep himself from feeling the consequences of his experiences, but that was simply another trait they shared in common. Another reason to care for him, to trust him to make the right decisions in the end. Another reason to forgive his lover's flaws, even as he struggled to forgive his own.

John and the Eleventh Doctor explained their proposed escape route, and River and the Eighth Doctor had already developed a way of tracking Omega. The Fifth Doctor was impressed. But it was obvious they'd given very little thought to his missing tenth incarnation.

He took the Eleventh Doctor aside for a moment as the group answered Turlough's detailed technical questions.

"You don't realize what you have until it's gone," the Eleventh Doctor said softly as he glanced back at Turlough, who was taking off his jacket and rolling up his sleeves to join Rose and John at the center of the apparatus.

"Tell me about the Tenth Doctor," he said in a brusque tone.

"Ah," the Eleventh Doctor replied, sounding almost bemused. "I was wondering when you'd get to that."

The Fifth Doctor merely glared, narrowing his eyes.

"Towards the end, I did a lot of things I regret," the Eleventh Doctor said, with a guarded sort of melancholy. "You don't know yet. You've no idea. There are some bad days ahead for you, Doctor. Some really bad days."

"But you don't remember what happened here."

The Eleventh Doctor shook his head. "This is new, some unique quirk of time and space. I don't think any of us will remember all of it until it's done. If we ever manage to escape, that is."

The Fifth Doctor looked away, into the darkness. "He's out there. And right now, he's dangerous. Terribly dangerous. He attacked Turlough. Violated his mind. And who knows what else he might have done if Turlough hadn't broken free. I just can't... I refuse to believe that's the sort of thing I'll be capable of one day."

"It isn't," the Eleventh Doctor said with grim determination.

"Turlough told me he felt something dark and savage attempting to control his thoughts. Like a snake..."

"The Mara," the Eleventh Doctor said, suddenly fearful.

"It never really goes away, does it?"

"But why now?" the Eleventh Doctor muttered, beginning to pace. "It's been centuries. And it can't be Omega, he took your bioimprint long before the Mara infected you that second time on Manussa. Can it?"

"I don't know, Doctor," he replied with a sigh. "But we have to find him. We have to stop him, no matter the cost. If he escapes back into his timeline, alone, and with the Mara still controlling him..."

"Then there'll be no one to stop him," the Eleventh Doctor said quietly, suddenly standing very still. "And even in the best of times, he always needed somebody to stop him."

* * *

NOTES:

So the Mara are a Buddhist metaphor for temptation/interdimensional snake beings who exploit people's darkest thoughts and impulses. The Fifth Doctor faced the Mara in Kinda and Snakedance, both of which feature really cool and creepy sequences. The Eleventh's reference to the Fifth Doctor being infected by the Mara comes from the Big Finish audio Cradle of the Snake, which you should totally listen to right this minute because it is absolutely awesome, and also the slashiest thing I've ever heard. Seriously. The Doctor invites Turlough on a "boys night out," his exact words, and wins him a lovely stuffed animal. Oh, how I giggled…


	8. Ch 8: At Any Cost

Chapter Eight: No Matter the Cost

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Thanks so much for my awesome reviewers! You are the best! 3 3 3

I will have all the chapters up, plus a very nice long epilogue, by the end of the week.

* * *

The Fifth Doctor stood beside his latest incarnation, addressing the group with grim expressions. Romana and the Eighth Doctor glanced at each other across the crowd. It reassured her, somehow, that at the moment, she had a Doctor of her own. Because all of these men, these incarnations of the man she'd loved for most of her life, they were strangers to her. She and the Fifth Doctor had never met in person before, and the wistful, sorrowful, way John and the Eleventh Doctor looked at her had begun to make her skin crawl. Now that she suspected they knew some secret, terrible truth about her future, she couldn't help but see their grief in every lingering glance. As though they were mourning her across the centuries, even as she walked among them.

"I think matters are much worse than we thought," the Fifth Doctor announced.

"We believe one of us is being controlled," the Eleventh Doctor said in a low voice. "He's out there. And the Mara has taken him."

John, Romana, and the Eighth Doctor exchanged worried stares.

"But surely that's a myth," River began, before stopping herself. "Right. This is you we're talking about."

"We need to find him," the Fifth Doctor said. "We must free him from the Mara at any cost."

"Once we've driven the Mara out, we should be able to use the apparatus over there to send the Mara into the void," the Eleventh said.

"But we only have one chance to collect enough rift energy to break the interdimensional barrier," Rose argued. "The whole thing is pretty much put together with a kettle and some string, yeah. It's all still unfinished. I don't think the dimensional stabilizer can handle more than one leap."

"We have to stop him," John said in a determined voice, reaching out to hold her hand tightly. "No matter the cost."

"Doctor, we're all time travelers here," River said, locking eyes with the Eleventh.

He gave her a slightly bemused look. "Er, yeah, I think everybody's already aware of that."

And she smirked at him.

His eyes grew wide and he smacked his forehead. "Of course! I'm thick. Old, and thick."

He ran straight to the apparatus, his sonic screwdriver in hand, inspecting the immature TARDIS and the circle of mirrors as he spoke in a rapid, distracted monologue. "River, you are absolutely brilliant. We _are_ all time travelers, every single one of us. Brimming with artron energy, just oodles and oodles of it! Especially me. All of me, really. But put us all together, and we have just enough to break through to the void without overloading the connections. Hopefully. Maybe. We don't need that much power, just enough to crack the skin of the antimatter universe. Break into the void, not travel through it. And… I'm pretty sure we can reverse the polarity to pull the energy from us instead of the Rift without too much trouble. So all we really need is to get him to step into this circle, which will drive the Mara out, and then we use our own artron energy to power John's impressive little apparatus here and, ta da! We expel the Mara into the void!"

"Yes, well, first we have to find him," Turlough said darkly, making a steeple of his hands.

"Doctor number 8, Romana, will you accompany me on the search?" the Fifth Doctor asked. "The rest of you better get started making the necessary adjustments. We won't know what ... state ... he'll be in when we bring him back. I doubt we'll have much time."

"I'm coming with you," Turlough said, stepping closer to the Fifth Doctor.

"No, Turlough, I need you here,"

"But Doctor—"

"Please, Turlough, just listen to me for once," the Fifth Doctor snapped, before continuing in a softer tone. "Very few people understand gravitational transtemporal dynamics as well as you do. They need your help if we are to succeed."

Turlough clenched his jaw, but in the end he nodded.

"Thank you," the Doctor said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Be careful," Turlough said, so quietly Romana barely caught it.

The Fifth Doctor gave him a reassuring smile, then turned to her, and held her hand. "Thank you for this, Romana. For everything."

And then they left, to track him in the darkness. The Doctors said very little, which frightened Romana more than she cared to admit. She lost track of time, which worried her even more. Since they first arrived in the antimatter universe she'd completely lost her time sense, and she felt absolutely naked without it. She couldn't recall a life without the innate Time Lord gift of sensing the shifting, slippery timelines. Of feeling the substance and possibility of every passing moment. Romana considered herself particularly adept among her people, but the Doctor had always put her and the rest of the Time Lords to shame. He was gifted, a prodigy, even from childhood, according to the Matrix records. The Celestial Intervention Agency had been keeping very close tabs on him from the moment he was born, and maybe a little bit before. Not that they'd been able to track him as closely as they would have hoped. The Doctor had a gift for disappearing, as she knew all too well. His thoughts, his impulses, constantly shifting, a chaotic sort of brilliance. He was absolutely mercurial, gushing and desperate for her one moment, so distracted he forgot she even existed the next. That was a trait that had lingered through all of his lives. A mercurial god of anarchy. One who would never, could ever, be contained. A single universe wasn't enough for him, much less a single planet. Or a single person.

She wondered, sometimes, though less often as the centuries passed, whether things would have been different if the Time Lords hadn't called her back to Gallifrey. Looking back, that had been the moment she'd first lost faith in the Doctor. The moment she began to question the truth of their relationship. Because her Fourth Doctor, a lover and so much more for the decade they spent traversing the cosmos, had not been willing to fight for her. And that alone had broken her heart. So she had found her own cause, one _she_ had been willing to fight for, and they had parted ways. Had she imagined his relief at that moment? Had her presence truly become a burden? Or was it only that he cared for her more than he wanted to admit, even to himself? Centuries later, she still didn't have an answer. Perhaps his reaction had simply been a quirk of his fourth incarnation. Charming and noble, but distracted, distant, and cold, and extremely irresponsible.

She looked up at the Fifth and Eight as they consulted the tracking device for a moment.

"It is set up for Omega's psyonic signature," the Eighth Doctor said, "but it should pick up any other life signs as well. Hmm… Still only one."

"Yes, well, I have my suspicions about that," the Fifth Doctor replied.

Romana knew this incarnation the least, but had often wondered about him. She'd heard the stories, knew he was too often considered the vulnerable one. The weak one. Especially by the brash, arrogant, insufferable Sixth, and the manipulative, melancholic Seventh. But in her limited time here with the Doctor's fifth incarnation, she had realized the truth of him, or at least, the first inklings of the man he was. The Fifth Doctor was steel wrapped in velvet, weak only in his compassion. In his caring, gentle nature. Those weren't traits she associated with the weak men she had to deal with on Gallifrey, mired in their endless Machiavellian plots in the decedent court of the Time Lords.

"He's close," the Eight Doctor said suddenly.

They saw him, creeping towards them through the twilight, twin trickles of dried blood staining a face twisted in a sneer. "Come to collect me, have you?"

"This isn't who you are," the Fifth Doctor said, striding fast to meet him face to face. "The Doctor I once met was a man I would be proud to become! Not this… creature… skulking alone in the dark."

"You must break free!" the Eighth Doctor said, positioning himself on the other side of the Fifth.

Romana joined them, making a triangle. All three of them touched hands, and suddenly he realized they had trapped him. They connected their minds, making a barrier, pushing into his thoughts.

"I am the Mara!" he hissed, but he brought his hands to his head, tearing at his hair.

"You are the Doctor," Romana said, her voice cracking with emotion.

"No," he started to moan, in a small, terrified voice. "No, I'm not the Doctor. Not anymore. I don't want to be the Doctor anymore. It hurts too much…"

"Fight it, Doctor!" Romana shouted. "Please. You have to fight it! Remember who you really are."

He staggered, then fell to his knees. "I'm... I'm the Doctor," he said, staring wildly at the triumvirate of Time Lords. "I'm the Doctor. That's all I have left. Please help me..."

And as they all joined hands, joined minds, they were pulled into the astral plane, dragging the Mara with them.


	9. Ch 9: The Doctor Forever

Chapter Nine: The Doctor Forever

* * *

As Gallifrey exploded into cinders all around him, a lone figure sat in the ashes, holding his knees to his chest, rocking back and forth. "I'm the Doctor," he muttered to himself over and over again. "The Doctor. I'm the Doctor. I'm the Doctor. The Doctor. I've only ever been the Doctor..."

But he knew it wasn't true. Was he truly the Doctor anymore? The man who makes people better? No, he couldn't be. Yet he had to be. Who else could he be? He'd lost everything else.

"The Doctor," he repeated. "I am the Doctor. The Doctor forever. The Doctor. Just the Doctor..."

Around him Gallifrey rebuilt itself from the ashes. The great dome of the Citadel rose up all about him, as he rocked back and forth. And then the great snake began to curl around the dome, and it shattered. The entire Citadel shattered, and the Mara coiled ever tighter around the vast Time Lord capital, tighter around the Doctor, until he was lost in its embrace.

And then Gallifrey exploded all around him, and the Doctor sat in the ashes, alone once again. Muttering to himself. As he had for such an endless time that he could no longer remember anything else.

But this time, something different happened. Three figures appeared, forming a triangle around him as Gallifrey turned to dust.

"Doctor," said a fierce, beautiful woman he knew he should recognize.

"We're here to help you," said a wistful, sensitive man with a Byronic sense of melancholy.

"Let us give you our strength," said an affable blond with steely blue eyes.

And he did feel their strength in him, clearing away the dust that had covered everything, blotting out every thought, except his desperate desire to exist. To remain the Doctor, above all else, forsaking his life, his true name, his own people. He had to be the Doctor, because he'd given up everything else. He had to be the Doctor, because there was nothing else for him to be.

"I am the Doctor," he said more firmly, and began to stand on shaky legs.

"Yes, you are," his fifth incarnation said.

"You are the Doctor," Romana said. "And you are a legend."

"Even when you've lost everything, you'll always be the Doctor," his eighth incarnation said sadly. "No matter the cost, you are the Doctor."

But the Mara had come to coil round them. To take them over. He lifted his arms, the sleeves rolled up to reveal the mark of the snake, twisting around like a living thing.

"It was me," he whispered. "It was always me. It never left."

The fifth incarnation extended a hand to him, but he was afraid to take it.

"No!" he said wildly, falling to his knees. "We can't be trusted, don't you see that? After everything we've done."

"Please, Doctor," Romana said desperately. "We need you!"

"But it's not just me," he said, clutching at his head. "It's not just me in here."

And then he was screaming, writhing on the ground and clutching his head as he was torn in two.

"Of course!" the fifth incarnation called out. "You brought us here on purpose, didn't you? You brought us here to set you free."

The figure at the center of the Time Lords twisted in agony, and then, with a dreadful wrenching sound, suddenly two men lay curled in the dust, an almost painfully slender man with trails of blood down his face, alongside a pale blond in black Gallifreyan robes worked with intricate gold patterns.

"It was you, Omega!" the fifth incarnation said as the Citadel rebuilt itself around them. "It's been you all along!"

He was the fifth incarnation's double, but his voice was deep and powerful, out of place coming from the soft, bland face. "You betrayed me!" he shouted, attempting to stand, but falling to his knees instead. And then his voice changed, becoming softer, a pleading, confused tone. "But we need your help, I need your help. I needed you to save me. Sentia, my poor beautiful Sentia, she never survived the transfer to my antimatter universe. There were only the two of us, you and I, barely existing. Lost. Ghosts without shape or substance, trapped together in a world I could no longer control. And then we sensed him, breaking the barriers between the dimensions, slipping into antimatter, and through him I sensed every Doctor traveling through the vortex in that frozen moment in time. And I pulled them through to me."

He laughed, and his voice turned steady, deep and menacing. "I would have my revenge! I will take over you, Doctor. Take over all of your precious incarnations. I will make you mine, and you will suffer as I have!"

"But I was too much for you, wasn't I?" the fifth incarnation replied. "You weren't prepared for how fractured he already was when you tried to take over his body."

"We found him, alone, in the dark," Omega said in a small, weak voice, which drifted into rambles as he began to clutch his head. "Lost in the darkness, inside and out. There was almost nothing left of us. Insubstantial ghosts. Can't you understand what it's been like? An eternity, alone in the dark? So we entered him. We took him as our vessel. But I fractured, we fractured, and the Mara was so strong. It never left us, and me, and then there were two of us, just the two of us, just the three of us, and the Mara, and which was which?"

"Which was which?" the tenth incarnation repeated, pulling himself up to kneel besides Omega. "Which are we? What are we?"

"I'm the Doctor," Omega said in a gentle voice, which suddenly became deeper as he continued, before faltering back and forth between sentences. "I need the Doctor. Because we're trapped, you see. All of us. We're trapped, now, trapped with the Mara. This universe will become our hell!"

"Help us!" the fifth incarnation shouted as the snake began to coil around the domed Citadel, as the first cracks began to appear. "Omega, we're not strong enough to break the Mara's grip without you."

"And then what happens?" Omega said in his deep booming voice. "You leave me trapped once again, broken and fractured? I'll tear your reality apart before I let that happen!"

But a softer voice took over, pleading for help. "No, no, I won't let you. I'm the Doctor. The Doctor. I'll make it better. I have to make it better..."

And he started speaking in unison with the Tenth Doctor, still kneeling beside him. "I'm the Doctor," they repeated. "The Doctor. I make people better. I'm the Doctor..."

Gallifrey exploded all around them. But this time, as the ashes cleared, they were standing under an impossible sky in a rocky, barren wasteland. In the center kneeled the Tenth Doctor in pinstripe pants and torn shirtsleeves rolled up to expose his forearms. And on his arm the mark of the Mara twisted and coiled.

"Help me," he pleaded. "I don't have much time."

* * *

NOTES:

Sentia is a character from the Big Finish audio Omega, with a really lovely and tragic story arc. You should really check it out!


	10. Ch 10: Fractured

Chapter 10: Fracturing

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Just one more chapter, and an epilogue! Thanks again for the lovely reviews. (~_^)

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"I think ... we might actually be done!" John said with a manic grin, leaning back and stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Good, thing, too," Amy said sardonically. "I was starting to get bored."

"Yes, well, that's probably because all you've been doing is handing me the odd tool here and there," Turlough said, then he held his hands up to defend against her glare. "Not that I'm complaining! It's actually a nice change of pace. I'm normally the one assisting."

They exchanged wry grins. Amy definitely liked Turlough quite a lot. Would have liked to get to know him much, much better. In various ways. Too bad all the good ones were gay. Or taken. Or aliens. Or all three, in his case. And she laughed, a little hysterically, without bothering to explain why, despite the fact that Turlough raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"Why are you crying?" he asked with concern.

She touched her face, shocked. "But I'm not..."

Amy trailed off, wiping the tears away absently as she stared into the darkness.

"They're coming," she said quietly.

The Fifth Doctor carried the Tenth Doctor in his arms. He hung limply, his long limbs trailing. Romana and the Eight Doctor followed at his side as they made their way into the center of the hollow.

"We don't have much time," Romana called out, her voice steady but commanding.

"Right," Rose said. "We're ready."

They all knew what to do. John rapidly dashed to the controls, flipping switches and making a few last minute adjustments. Everybody else joined in forming a circle around the apparatus.

"This might be a bit unpleasant," the Eleventh said dryly.

In fact, they'd already been warned it would probably hurt like hell. But at the moment Amy was more concerned about the fact that the Tenth Doctor had begun to stir. By the time they reached the bottom, he had struggled free, both Doctors tumbling the last few feet meters down the slope.

"No," the Tenth Doctor said as he shakily stood up. "No, you won't trick me again. It's been too long, trapped inside of you. Waiting for my chance. The Mara gave us everything! It gave us a renewed purpose. Binded us together."

"Not as tightly as you thought!" The Fifth Doctor stood up, inches from his face. "It seems I'm just too much for the Mara to handle. You're fracturing! Together, we're so much more than you, so much stronger. Together, we can drive you out."

"But I'm already inside, remember? I never left," the Tenth Doctor replied, and grabbed the other man's arm.

The Fifth Doctor screamed, a blend of fear and agony. "No! I will resist you..."

Amy noticed with terror that a dark mark, like a coiling snake, seemed to be moving on the Tenth Doctor's arm. Reaching ever closer to the Fifth Doctor.

The Eight Doctor and Romana grabbed both of them, pulling them apart. Romana steadied the Fifth Doctor as he swayed, while the Eighth Doctor struggled to hold on to the Tenth. The Eleventh and John joined him, and all three began to drag the Tenth Doctor towards the apparatus.

"I am the Mara!" he screamed as he thrashed in their arms, resisting every step. "I am temptation and lust, I am hatred and violence! All those things you claim to deny. But I am nothing compared to you, Doctor. Destroyer of worlds, killer of your own kind! How many species have you wiped from existence? How many have died for the misfortune of having crossed paths with the Doctor? How much suffering have you caused because you simply couldn't resist getting involved?"

And what shocked Amy the most was that none of them denied it. If anything, the way the Eleventh Doctor kept staring into the distance with grim resignation made it her think that he agreed, that the truth shamed him.

Amy had seen that look before, in response to similar accusations. But she couldn't quite recall when. In a dream, perhaps? It felt like a dream. The details blurred, mere snatches of images, feelings, breaking through. Faint and at the periphery of her awareness. She wondered once again about the secrets her Doctor kept from her. Secrets everybody else seemed to know more about than her.

They brushed past her as they dragged the Tenth Doctor, kicking and scratching like an animal, into the center of mirrors, his face a mask of fury. The Eleventh flipped a switch on the console. "Now!" he shouted.

They tossed the Tenth Doctor to the ground, in the center of a dozen mirrors facing inward, joining the rest of them in the circle around the apparatus. They all held hands.

The Tenth Doctor stared wildly at his reflection, panicked. A low growl, a deep inhuman sound, escaped his throat as he slowly kneeled. His eyes turned skyward.

Then Amy lost track of things, as every molecule in her body arced with the terrible blue energy coursing through her, her nervous system burning like fire. It poured from all of them, lifting them into the ground. Forming streaks of crackling artron energy that met at the center, at the immature TARDIS that had begun to fade in and out with a slow, distorted screech, nothing like that wondrous sound Amy had dreamed about for most of her life. But of course, as her agonized screams were lost among the rest, Amy had the distant thought that this could only be a nightmare.

The ghostly form of a snake rose from the Tenth Doctor as the entire apparatus became alive with jagged, blue streaks of energy. His entire body arched upright, his face twisted in pain and fury. His outstretched arms crackled with lightning as he began to rise from the ground. A dark, swirling vortex opened up above him.

The serpent coiling out of him began to wrap around the Doctor, but the pull of the void was too strong, and the Doctor began to tear in two. The Mara's head disappeared into the void, but it kept its tail wrapped tightly around the Doctor as he glowed, and began to come apart. He rose slowly, inexorably, coming undone, until suddenly there were two of them. As the Tenth Doctor slipped out of its grasp, the snake's coiled tail remained gripped around a blond figure dressed in black robes, his pale face blank, his eyes staring into the vortex. Somehow calm, and accepting.

And then they were both gone. But the Tenth Doctor continued to rise, following into the black storm of nothingness. His expression frozen in terror. Amy knew they needed to stop. They needed to help him. They needed to break the circle and set him free before they lost him to the void. But the agony froze her in place.

I'm the end, it was Rose who broke free, forcing her way forward with a practiced instinct to save her Doctor at all costs that had been permanently ingrained in her very being long ago. She ran toward him, knocking over anything in her way, leaping into the swirl of dying artron energy, pulling him with her to the ground.

Amy collapsed. The air around them became very still. As she struggled to sit up, she heard John's voice cry out into the silence. "Rose?"

She was slumped over, unmoving. Amy couldn't tell if she was breathing. John kneeled at her side, cradling her in his arms. "Rose," he whispered, touching her face. And then she moaned, just a little. John gasped.

"Thank you. Oh, thank you. Thank you," he repeated to himself, in between kissing her forehead, cheeks, and lips.

The Fifth Doctor went to the motionless form of the Tenth Doctor, pale and silent, eyes staring upward into that impossible sky. "He needs our help," he said quietly.

Romana, the Eighth Doctor, and the Eleventh joined the Fifth in laying their hands on the Tenth Doctor. The rest of them watched, as all five sets of Time Lord eyes fluttered shut at once. And they all turned deathly still, not even breathing. A few moments passed, and then all as one they shuddered and gasped. The Tenth Doctor shot up, trembling and backing away from them, muttering no again and again. Sobbing with panic and horror. But the Time Lords held him until he calmed.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, then slipped into unconsciousness.


	11. Ch 11: Only Temptation

Much thanks to my awesome reviewers, especially Jenny! Your well-thought praise and speculations have totally guided my revisions. And yes, I like making Five the Big Damn Hero almost as much as I like making Ten the Insane Creepy Villain! They're my two favorite Doctors, followed by 8 and 11. (^_~)

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This is the official "final chapter" but there is a great 2,000+ epilogue to come, maybe tomorrow?

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Chapter 11: Only Temptation

* * *

They'd pieced him back together again. Gone into his mind, and put him back in place, bit by bit, each focusing on what he knew best. The Fifth Doctor gave him his humanity, his compassion, his conscience, his capacity for self-sacrifice. From the Eight Doctor, a sense of romance, and vulnerability, a flippant humor in the face of anything, an urgent, decisive nature and a determination to never look back. Romana gave him love, strength, familiarity, a sense of continuity he'd taken for granted until he'd lost her, and along with her his last personal connection to the vanished world of Gallifrey. And surprisingly, from his future self, he gained a sense of acceptance. He'd expected the Doctor who would take his place to look back on him as a broken, flawed, version of himself, a failure too many times over. Instead, the Eleventh had embraced acceptance. He accepted his place as the Doctor, and everything that came with it. His past, his mistakes, his wild, eccentric nature. His inability to ever truly overcome the casual cruelty of existence. Without giving in, he'd stopped fighting the nature of the universe quite so much. So maybe in that incarnation he would deserve to feel carefree once again, to surround himself with people he loved. Who loved him back. Even if, at the moment, he felt he couldn't be trusted with that responsibility anymore.

He couldn't bear to face them all, but he couldn't leave yet. When he'd awoken, the group was saying their farewells. The Fifth Doctor remained at his side, sitting cross-legged in the dust. Smiling.

The Tenth Doctor looked up at him, and felt dreadfully ashamed. His was the life he remembered most fondly. There had been too many tragedies, but also so much life and laughter and love, so many good people. And he'd finally let down his guard enough to let himself feel it. As the Fifth Doctor, he'd indulged. And if sometimes he suffered for it, so be it.

He'd been so caring, back then. So forgiving. He'd had so much mercy. By his fifth incarnation, he'd begun to understand the universe as a much darker place than he had ever wanted to admit. But he'd refused to let that make him somber, or impolite. If he was to be the better angel in a cosmos of demons, he would make the hard decisions and live with the consequences. How was he any different now? Was it the universe around him that had changed? Or was he only just now suffering the consequences of a millennium of irresponsible mistakes?

"Thank you," the Tenth Doctor said in a hoarse voice, as the Fifth Doctor helped him up. "It was your strength, your presence, that helped us break free."

"Don't mention it," he said, his smile becoming very gentle. "Just promise me you'll be … kinder to yourself."

The Tenth Doctor simply nodded, and followed him toward the crowd. Toward Rose.

"You've saved me once again, Rose Tyler," the Tenth Doctor said weakly. "Thank you. For everything."

"Yeah, well, you know me," she said with a shrug and a wide smile that reminded him of the first time he had seen it with this incarnation's dark brown eyes. Eyes created while every thought, every molecule, had been wrapped up in her memory.

And he would have hugged her, right then, but another man, who wore his face with much less effort, had draped an arm across her shoulders. With a practiced sort of casualness.

"Take care of her," the Tenth Doctor said in a serious tone.

"I always do," John replied as the Doctor turned and walked away.

He hated good byes. But there was one more person he needed to see before he could allow himself to slip away into the endless night.

The Tenth Doctor couldn't be sure what part of him, Omega, and the Mara had done what. With so many souls merging into his consciousness at once, his thoughts had become an endless babble. He could never be sure which part of him had wanted Turlough the most. Could it have been him, all along? His own dark desires and his longing to recapture that absent sensation of caring for someone, and of being cared for so desperately in return? His own terrible instincts, broken free from the constraints of the better angels of his soul? Or the Mara, twisting inside of him, hoping to once again possess the deep labyrinth of Turlough's quick, devious mind? Which Turlough had resisted so marvelously. He felt very proud of what he'd seen in Turlough's thoughts. Grateful that somewhere in the universe existed a man named Vislor Turlough who was strong and good despite himself because he had been loved, and cared for, by a man he would know only as the Doctor. It meant so much that Turlough would always think fondly of him. Of at least one version of him.

The Doctor found his errant schoolboy at the edge of the group, half hidden in the dark. "Oh, Turlough," the Tenth Doctor said, his voice shaky, his eyes glimmering in the eerie gray twilight. "I'm so sorry."

"It wasn't your fault," Turlough said quietly, avoiding his gaze. "You weren't yourself."

"Wasn't I?" the Tenth Doctor whispered, continuing in a low, hollow voice. "The Mara is temptation. Evil and powerful and infinitely seductive. But in the end, only temptation."

"I know what it's like," Turlough said a little angrily. "I've had the Mara inside me too, remember?"

"You can never be truly free, once it's wrapped itself inside your head," the Doctor said, staring off into the distance with a weary expression. "It's never left me. Always waiting, at the edges, whenever I go too far. And lately..."

The Doctor took a long, deep breath and scrubbed his face with his hands, not surprised to find it wet.

"Lately, I've been so selfish, Turlough. I've made so many mistakes."

Turlough placed a tentative hand on the Doctor's shoulder. "You'll find your way again. I know you will."

And the Tenth Doctor glanced back at the Eleventh, who was wrapping a giggling Romana in a tight embrace. "Yeah," he said finally, a trace of bitterness in his voice. "Yeah, I suppose I will. Sometimes I think a Time Lord lives too long, Turlough."

"It's not how long you live," Turlough replied. "It's what you do with the time you have. You taught me that."

"Well, I suppose I do have my moments," the Tenth Doctor said, rubbing the back of his neck. And when he finally smiled, it felt like the first time in ages.


	12. Epilogue: An Unearthly Wheezing

Thanks for everything, faithful readers! I've really enjoyed writing this, and you've all given me such lovely feedback. I'm humbled and grateful. What do you think should happen next?

* * *

Epilogue: An Unearthly Wheezing

* * *

He watched River take the Tenth Doctor's hand, pulling him away from Turlough. The Fifth Doctor was very grateful to see the battered Time Lord smile.

"He'll be all right," said the Eleventh Doctor, approaching him, with Romana and the Eighth at his side.

"Will he really?" the Fifth Doctor replied, mostly to himself.

"We're always all right, remember?" He gave him a sad little smile with a trace of irony.

"Yes, but what about us?" Romana asked, and reached out to hold the Eighth Doctor's hand. "Will we be all right?"

"Spoilers..." the Eleventh replied softly, sounding very heartbroken.

Romana sighed. "Yes. Timelines and all. Well, that's all right, I suppose. Nobody lives forever. And I'm still glad I met you."

The Fifth Doctor took her hand and brought it to his lips, his eyes never leaving hers. "I'm very grateful to finally have had the chance to meet you in person, Romana. I hope you realize how much you mean to me. How much you'll always mean to all of us."

At that moment, Turlough cleared his throat. The Fifth Doctor turned around, a guilty expression on his face.

"Ah, yes. Turlough. I was just about to fetch you," he said, annoyed at himself for feeling so flustered. "I think it's time we left."

"Don't worry," the Eleventh said, watching the Tenth Doctor stroke River's face almost reverently. "River will sort him out. She's good at that."

"I'm sure she is," the Fifth Doctor replied.

They'd all wandered close, letting River and the Tenth Doctor share their moment in relative privacy. The Fifth Doctor looked around his little motley crew, then locked eyes with the Eleventh, and smiled. He remembered what it felt like to have his past come for a visit. He considered himself very lucky to have the chance to experience the reverse. To be able to see all of his future spread out before him. It was comforting to know there was so much still ahead.

"I'm glad to see I'll be in good hands," he said.

"Well, you always were my favorite," John said with a wide, dopey grin.

"Yes," he replied, touched. "Well, modesty forbids."

"It's been lovely," the Eighth Doctor said and warmly shook hands with the Fifth. He gave Turlough a long, lingering hug, then kissed Rose and Amy on the cheek before turning to face John and the Eleventh. "I am sorry, you know. For whatever it is I've done. Or am going to do."

The Eleventh Doctor sighed, and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"You have some bad days ahead of you, Doctor. Some really, really bad days. But we all do what we must, in the end. And we learn to live with the consequences."

He sighed loudly, then nodded. "Yes. I suppose we must."

Romana held out her hand, and he took it, attempting a weary sort of smile. "And now I really think we must be going," Romana said. "Farewell, and thank you."

John, the Eleventh, and the Fifth couldn't let her leave without embracing her one last time, and then the two Time Lords strode off into the darkness.

"We should be getting back," Rose said, giving John a pointed look. "My mum's gonna kill you."

He gave a long-suffering sigh. "Yeah, I sort of figured that. But did you really have to bring up Jackie at the moment? You're making me look uncool in front of the other Doctors!"

She chuckled. "Right, so you all know what to do? We'll contact Ianto, and once he opens the rift, you'll need to follow our signal. Just one chance, yeah?"

River stepped into their midst, looking a little saddened. "He's gone back to his TARDIS. But he won't miss the signal. He'll make it back."

"You know, I'm rather looking forward to getting to know you," the Fifth Doctor said.

River smiled then, and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. "To days to come."

"Shouldn't we be going?" the Eleventh said, sounding just a tad irritable.

"Thank you, Doctor," the Fifth Doctor said, shaking the hand of his latest incarnation.

"I'm very welcome," he replied with a wry grin. "Come along, Pond. River."

"Oh, all right," Amy said with a sigh. She embraced John and Rose in a single huge hug, laughing. "You better come visit, ok?"

She released them, but not a moment later the Eleventh Doctor captured them in yet another embrace.

Amy turned to Turlough, lips pouted. "You know, if things don't work out with this Doctor fellow, you really should look me up."

Before he could reply, Amy grabbed his lapels, pulled him close, and kissed him, rough and passionate. The Fifth Doctor clenched his jaw, somehow managing to refrain himself from yanking them apart.

Turlough blushed beet red as he pulled away, a little breathless.

"You take care of him, ok?" she said with a beguiling smile.

"I think it's the other way around," Turlough replied, backing away from her rather nervously, and glancing at the Fifth Doctor apologetically.

"All right, that's quite enough of that, Pond," the Eleventh Doctor growled, grabbing her hand gruffly and pulling her away.

"Bye!" Amy called out as they left.

"Until next time," River said, and gave them an enigmatic smile before she followed after the other two.

"So..." the Fifth Doctor said, grinning at Rose and John. "Twins."

John bounded up to him and gave him a huge hug, practically lifting him. Laughing.

"I know!" he said as he pulled away, still grasping the Doctor's shoulders. "Oh, you'd love them. Different as can be, but both are absolutely brilliant. Can you imagine? Your own little time tots gallivanting around in an alternate universe."

"Sounds like a lovely adventure," the Fifth Doctor replied, blue eyes shining. "I'm so happy for you. For both of you."

Then Rose hugged him, and something about her felt so perfect, so right. He fell in love with her then, just a little bit. After they separated, the Doctor took Turlough's hand and held it tightly. Suddenly very grateful for his presence.

"Thank you," John said to Turlough, then kissed him lightly on the cheek. "You did take care of me, Turlough. More than you realized."

Turlough smiled, and looked away. Still blushing.

* * *

It started the moment they returned to the vortex. The Doctor knew he could be very persuasive, and Romana found herself victim to yet another of his earnest, rambling speeches.

"I need you," he said finally, his voice low and serious.

"Doctor..." Romana said sternly.

"Please?" the Eight Doctor said. "It won't be any trouble, I promise. Let me make things up to you. Just one more trip, Romana. Please, please, please please please?"

"I can't, Doctor. You know that. I've been gone too long already. We're still on Gallifreyan time, after all. It isn't as though the council won't be waiting for me. Probably plotting in my absence at this very moment."

"Please?" he pleaded, his tone turning very desperate.

"You don't want to be alone," she said, moving closer to him.

And the Doctor suddenly seemed very small, and very weak, and very, very vulnerable. "Whatever they know, whatever they've experienced, it's left the universe terribly broken. I can almost feel it, if I concentrate. Can't you? There, at the very edges? An obscene, impossible tangle of complicated fractures in the web of time. And I can't begin to imagine how to stop it. I'm frightened, Romana. More frightened than I've ever been."

As she held him, she began to tremble in his arms. "So am I, Doctor. So am I."

* * *

Just outside the subterranean warehouse dedicated to Doctor John Smith's special projects, the Hub was alive with activity. Every single Torchwood 3 employee, not to mention Jackie and the twins, had been waiting for hours. Empty takeout boxes were stacked haphazardly around the room, but Ianto was too preoccupied to bother cleaning them up.

Bright, cheerful Donna, a halo of wild ginger curls surrounding her plump freckled face, chatted energetically with Gwen. Alone in a corner, playing a videogame, sulked her brother Adric, the blue-eyed, dark-haired prodigy who's almost frightening intelligence always left Ianto feeling slightly inadequate.

They were definitely going to hate him for this, if they ever showed up. But Ianto had needed Tosh's help, and there was very little she kept from her snarky husband Owen. And Owen told Gwen, who just had to call the head of Torchwood, and Pete Tyler knew better than to keep any secrets from Jackie, even if he was off-planet, and suddenly everybody had shown up.

"So how can they be late if they've got a time machine?" Owen complained with an exasperated sigh.

Before Ianto could reply, they heard a strange rasping sound and a bright blue light flashed from the cracks around the door to the warehouse.

A moment later, they heard John's voice. "See? What did I tell you? Safe as houses."

Then the door opened, and he and Rose stepped through. Two small blurs dashed across the room, calling out for their parents. He picked both of them up in one enormous hug and spun them around, laughing.

"Aw, did you miss us?" he asked with a wide, beaming smile.

And then all four of them were pressed together in a ludicrous embrace.

"Just where the hell have you been?" Jackie growled, arms crossed, wearing a dangerous expression. "What were you thinking, dragging my Rose off to God knows where without so much as a warning?"

She began an epic tirade.

* * *

After setting the TARDIS to drift in the vortex once again, the Doctor released a long, shuddering sigh, scrubbing his face with his hands, feeling gritty dried blood flake away. He collapsed heavily into the jump seat and pulled his knees to his chest.

He ached with weariness. Dark thoughts swirled through his mind, memories of vicious impulses he hoped were not his own, sins he knew too well he could have avoided, and above all a chasm of loneliness he was too afraid to fill. Because if this experience had taught him anything, it was that this incarnation could no longer be trusted. Maybe once, too long ago, it felt, he had been the sort of man who could be trusted to care for others. And it seemed he would be again at some point, as bitterly unfair as that revelation felt at the moment. Just now, however, love and friendship seemed comforts he no longer deserved.

And yet, after everything he'd done, his fifth incarnation had told him to be kinder to himself. Well, he always had been so merciful in that body. So forgiving. If he had met Turlough now, would this Doctor really have allowed him the luxury of making his own choices, when so much hung in the balance? Given Turlough the opportunity to redeem himself, only to betray him yet again? Offering him only forgiveness in return, time after time…

Sadly, he admitted to himself he probably wouldn't. Because he wasn't the sort of man who gave second chances. Not anymore. And so he would have missed out on so much. Love, fierce and brief and unexpected. Too many memories he still cherished. And he would have misjudged a fractured soul, so similar to his own, with so much potential for good hidden under the surface.

Maybe it really was time to change. Time to die. Because if he was quite honest with himself, he couldn't think of any real reason to put his death off any longer. The Tenth Doctor couldn't trust himself to let anyone else in, and no longer felt confident the universe would continue to survive his litany of mistakes.

How could he be kinder to himself when he found it impossible to forgive himself for allowing this life to become a seemingly endless series of mistakes and miscalculations? It was time to stop running. But at the moment, the thought of letting go of this life, as painful as it had become, still absolutely terrified him. And he felt such a coward, realizing that he would continue running. For just a little while longer, at least. If only to feel something besides the torment of doubt and self-loathing that now threatened to subsume him completely. He wanted desperately to lose himself, somewhere, with someone, in some time with as few complications as possible. To run away and hide, like a coward. For just a little while longer. Before transforming into a better man.

The Doctor began to weep, ashamed and broken, full of regrets yet desperately mourning the loss of this one flawed incarnation. Grieving for a single lifetime in which he had felt everything too strongly, clinging to what little he had left with a desperation that only ever seemed to lead to tragedy. A lifetime spent causing as many disasters as he averted. With nobody to comfort him, he wept for a very long time.

* * *

They dropped River off on a planet Amy had never heard of, in a solar system an impossible distance from Earth, sometime in the 51st century. The world seemed an enormous city, spread out from horizon to horizon, with flying cars and endless skyscrapers that reached dizzying heights.

Naturally, the Doctor overshot his destination by several thousand miles, and more than a couple of decades, but River didn't seem to mind. They arrived near sunset, landing in a surprisingly green park with fluttering insects that reminded Amy of metallic butterflies.

She and River exchanged warm hugs.

"Until next time," River said.

Amy grinned. "Can't wait!"

Then River turned to the Doctor, and gave him a slow, teasing smile. "Doctor."

"River," he said, with the beginnings of a smirk.

They stepped very close together, and River reached out and stroked his cheek gently. He leaned into her touch almost without realizing it.

"So is this how it'll always be between us?" he asked in a quiet, serious tone.

"Perhaps," she said, her voice full of amusement. "But don't worry. We'll see each other very soon."

"That's what you said last time," he replied, moving even closer to her.

Then she leaned in and whispered in his ear. The Doctor's smile grew very wide, and he chuckled, sounding absolutely charmed.

She pulled away from him, but he leaned forward, as though his body was subconsciously trying to close the gap between them.

"Soon, my love," she said very softly, placing a hand on his chest.

Then she turned and walked away. The Doctor watched her go, looking wistful, and very smitten, and slightly disappointed.

Then he turned to Amy as though he'd forgotten she existed.

"So..." Amy said, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Space Florida?" he said, raising his eyebrows.

"Oh, all right," Amy said, and followed him inside.

With an unearthly wheezing, the last TARDIS in the universe disappeared into the vortex.

* * *

Notes:

Thanks so much for reading, everyone! And for the awesome reviews! This is seriously the longest fanfiction I've ever written, and it's been a little exhilarating. If you like it, please check out my other stories, especially "Hello Doctor, I'm the Doctor," which is actually a sort of prequel. I think I have a couple of more stories to tell in this universe, especially with the **SPOILER ALERT** mention on SJA that the Doctor visited every single companion he'd ever had before he regenerated. I'm thinking of doing a small series. And I have an 8/Romana/Turlough story prickling in my mind that has to do with paradoxes, Trion, and the Time War!


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